


the stronger word

by blazeofglory



Series: with feeling [4]
Category: The Terror (TV 2018)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Blindfolds, Cunnilingus, Dirty Talk, Edward Little's Pierced Nipples, Established Relationship, Fingering, Fluff, Handcuffs, Love Confessions, M/M, Multiple Orgasms, Penis In Vagina Sex, Porn with Feelings, Praise Kink, Trans Male Character
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-19
Updated: 2021-03-19
Packaged: 2021-03-28 03:26:29
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,685
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30133266
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/blazeofglory/pseuds/blazeofglory
Summary: Edward seeks boyfriend advice from Jopson.(Then Edward goes home to his boyfriend and has a very fun evening.)
Relationships: Edward Little/Solomon Tozer, background Jopson/Crozier
Series: with feeling [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2204379
Comments: 6
Kudos: 26
Collections: The Terror Bingo





	the stronger word

**Author's Note:**

> for my tingo (terror bingo) square "Thomas Jopson"! unfortunately, Jopson isn't the star of this fic, but i swear i'll give him his time in the spotlight soon! i've got some Jopson/Crozier ideas for my "moss" bingo square akldjas
> 
> language warnings are the same as usual! Edward is trans and I use the words pussy/cunt.

It’s been three weeks, and Sol hasn’t said it again. He hasn’t so much as _hinted_ at saying it again. 

Edward doesn’t know what the fuck to do. 

“Jopson,” he starts, then stops, blushing. “I need… advice.” 

Jopson looks up from the book in his lap, a curious expression on his face. They’re both in Crozier’s office, Edward grading papers at his desk near Crozier’s and Jopson working on his own coursework on the dingy old couch while Crozier is in a meeting elsewhere in the building. Edward and Jopson are… friends. Of a sort. 

Mostly, they just work together. They’ve gone to happy hour twice, maybe. Edward isn’t _great_ at making friends. 

But he needs a friend right now. 

“Do you want me to look over a paper?” Jopson offers, gesturing to the stack on Edward’s desk. “I’ve not read the material for the course, but I’ve got a keen eye for grammar.” 

Edward looks down at the paper, then back up, biting his lip nervously, then admits, “It’s actually not about school stuff. It’s about… my boyfriend.” 

“Oh!” Jopson smiles and closes his book. “Solomon, right? He came with you to my housewarming party last semester?” 

“Yeah.” Edward smiles too, small and pleased. There’s something _nice_ about people knowing about him and Sol. “Sol. The only reason I’m ever late to meetings and classes.” 

Jopson leans his elbow on the book in his lap, resting his head in his hand, clearly giving Edward his full attention. “What do you need advice about? I’m not the _best_ at romance, but I can give it a shot.” 

“You’re seeing someone, aren’t you?” Edward can’t help but ask curiously. “He sent you flowers for your birthday, yeah?” 

“Mhm.” Jopson adjusts his hair, looking away from Edward. “An older guy. It’s… on the down low.” 

Edward thinks back to Sol’s musings a few weeks ago—about Jopson, about Crozier, about the orange cat fur that clings to both their pants. Curious. 

“But anyway,” Jopson continues, before Edward has the chance to ask any questions—not that he would have anyways. “Tell me how I can help.” 

“Right. So.” Edward pauses, thoughts racing. “Uh. I don’t know how much of this I can explain without sort of getting into my sex life.” 

Jopson leans forward, clearly intrigued, and makes a gesture for Edward to go on. 

“Sol and I hooked up last year,” Edward starts, nervously running a hand through his hair. “We were friends first, and it got messy, and. We broke up. But then we started hooking up again _this_ year, and now we’re dating properly. And it’s—it’s been good. It’s been _really_ good.” 

“Did something happen?” Jopson prompts gently. 

“Well, he said he loves me. But he said it, uh, during sex. And then he hasn’t brought it up since. It’s been _weeks_ , Jopson.” 

Jopson frowns. “Did you say it back?” 

“Well.” Edward blushes. “I was distracted at the time. And then I tried to talk to him about it, but he fell asleep.” 

“I have to admit, I’m not sure what the issue is,” Jopson says, not unkindly. “He’s probably embarrassed because you didn’t say it back.” 

“But what if he didn’t mean it?” Edward asks quietly, finally voicing his anxieties aloud. “What if he just said it during sex and it didn’t mean anything? And maybe none of this means anything? Maybe—maybe to him, it’s still just… sex.” 

“Edward,” Jopson starts, prompting Edward to look up again and meet his kind eyes. “You go on dates, right?” 

“Yeah. We went bowling last night, actually.” 

“And you stay at his place a lot? And you borrow his white sweater that doesn’t fit you properly?” 

Edward blushes. “Yeah.” 

“And you were friends first,” Jopson continues, smiling. “And I’ve seen him hold your hand and bring you lunch and cigarettes and tea.”

Edward smiles now too. “Yeah.” 

Jopson shrugs. “I think he’s just in love with you.” 

“I want him to be,” Edward admits softly. “I don’t know what I’ll do if he isn’t.” 

“You should tell him.” 

“I _can’t_ ,” Edward protests immediately, shaking his head. “Too much anxiety.” 

“You could try?” Jopson suggests gently. “Maybe at night, in the dark? It can be easier to say things when you don’t have to look each other in the eye.” 

Edward’s quiet for a moment, thinking it over. “You… you’re sure that he loves me? He _really_ loves me?” 

Jopson chuckles. “I’m pretty sure.” 

“Alright,” Edward says, smiling softly. “Thank you.” 

“Of course.” Jopson turns back to his book, opening it back up—but then he looks back up again, catching Edward’s eye before he can turn back to his papers. “Can I ask you something?” 

Edward nods.

“At the sex store,” Jopson starts, and Edward _groans_. “The collar you bought, was it for you or for him?” 

“Fuck you,” Edward laughs, and Jopson laughs too. 

At that very moment, the door opens and Professor Crozier walks in, giving them both curious looks as their laughter trails off. 

“A productive study hour?” Crozier asks with a wry smile. He’s holding two paper cups in his hand—he hands one to Jopson, then turns to Edward apologetically. “Sorry about that, Little. I thought you were off today.” 

“Oh, it’s alright,” Edward replies. It’s Wednesday. He always works Wednesdays. 

“Thank you for the tea, sir,” Jopson says, smiling up at Crozier, and Crozier smiles right back. 

“What were you two laughing about?” Crozier asks curiously as he sits down at his desk, adding yet another bulging manila folder to the existing pile. 

Jopson darts a glance over to Edward, a gleam of mischief in his eye. “Oh, just talking about boys.” 

Crozier raises a brow. 

“About my boyfriend,” Edward supplies, blushing again. “Jopson was giving me advice.” 

“You ought to listen to him,” Crozier replies immediately. “He’s a smart one, our Jopson.” 

Jopson tries to hide a smile into his tea, but Edward sees it, and it makes him smile too. He’s always felt like a bit of a third wheel in this shared office space—it’s strangely comforting to now have an explanation as to why. He suddenly doesn’t mind it as much. 

In fact, it may just benefit him. 

“Oh, Professor, Jopson was just saying he needed you to look over something,” Edward lies, offering up a polite smile. “I was about to head out, so I’ll leave you to it.” 

“Have a good weekend,” Crozier says, already turning his attention to Jopson. It’s still Wednesday. Edward will be back in the office tomorrow. 

He doesn’t miss the grateful look that Jopson gives him on his way out. 

* * *

Edward’s on his back in Sol’s bed—his favorite place in the goddamn world to be—and Sol has three fingers buried inside him. Sol is kneeling between Edward’s legs, and he has Edward handcuffed to the headboard. Try as he may, Edward can’t reach out and touch him. 

There’s a blindfold tied tight around his eyes, too. He can’t see a fucking thing. 

“You look like a fucking mess, Edward. So goddamn beautiful like this,” Sol says softly, voice sugar sweet as he pets Edward’s thigh with his free hand. His other hand isn’t _moving_ , no matter how much Edward clenches and squirms. “I’ve hardly done _anything_ to you yet.” 

“What—” Edward’s voice cracks and he swallows thickly. “What are you going to do to me?” 

Sol’s hand on Edward’s thigh draws away and the mattress shifts a little, sheets rustling, and Edward has no idea what Sol is doing. 

“Maybe I’m going to fuck you,” Sol muses. “Or maybe I’m going to leave you _waiting_ for it, see how long you can last without begging.” 

Edward rolls his hips up desperately, letting out a quiet whine. “I wouldn’t last long.” 

“I know, baby.” 

Then Edward feels Sol’s lips on his chest, and he jerks a little, startled. Sol chuckles softly, then busies himself licking over one of Edward’s pierced nipples. _Oh_ , his mouth… His lips close, and he _sucks_ , making Edward gasp and moan, and then he tugs at the piercing with his teeth, and Edward cries out. 

“Mm, just like that,” Sol murmurs, lips brushing Edward’s skin. “Make those pretty noises for me, Ned.” 

“ _Sol_ ,” Edward breathes out, moaning again as Sol sets back to his work, licking and sucking and _biting_. Edward can’t see— _fuck_ , he wishes he could see—but he knows Sol is leaving an assortment of red marks on and around his nipples. He knows they’ll be dark purple by tomorrow, and they’ll _ache_ in that delicious way they always do. He knows Sol’s eyes will darken every time he sees them—and Edward loves to make up excuses to take his shirt off and make Sol see them—and Sol will reach out, fingertips ghosting gently over the marks. 

And then Sol will press down _hard_ , and Edward will get _instantly_ wet, and with Sol’s help, the marks will stay dark and take _days_ longer to fade. 

“Oh, _god_ ,” Edward moans as Sol bites down _hard_ , Edward’s whole body jolting with the sweet pleasure and pain. “Sol, is it—did you—?” 

Sol licks Edward’s nipple, lingering on the scar tissue below it for a moment, before pulling back. “You want to know if I left a mark?” 

Edward nods, distantly aware of his hair flopping on his forehead, even more of a mess than usual because of the blindfold. 

Suddenly, Edward _yelps_ as Sol presses the pad of his thumb into the spot just next to his nipple, where his skin is _achingly_ tender. 

“Yeah, there’s a fucking mark. Nice and dark,” Sol says, voice low. “Looks good on you, baby.” 

_God_ , Edward’s wet. He doesn’t quite know how Sol is positioned now, and wishes he could reach out and touch—he wants to get his hand on that thick cock, wants to _feel_ how much Sol wants him. Without even really meaning to, Edward tries to move his arm, but the handcuffs keep him in place, the chain jangling against the rungs of the headboard and the skin-warm metal biting into the tender skin of his wrists. 

“What do you need, sweetheart?” Sol asks, a whisper into Edward’s ear. He presses a kiss to Edward’s neck, and then another to his straining bicep, and then one more to the sore spot on one wrist. For all that Sol usually spouts the filthiest things Edward’s ever heard, it’s… different today. The sugar sweet praise is making Edward just as fucking wild as the degradation usually does. 

Edward shifts his hips again, _very_ aware of the way Sol’s fingers have him stretched and ready, snug inside him, _filling_ him but not _fucking_ him. It’s driving Edward crazy. 

“ _Please_ fuck me,” Edward begs, breathless and desperate. “Please, Sol, I _need_ it—” 

“Oh, well if you _need_ it,” Sol replies mockingly, but Edward doesn’t even have the chance to be offended by it, because Sol is suddenly _grinding_ his fingers, rubbing _all_ the right places inside him, and Edward _moans_ for it. 

“Thank you,” he gasps out, spreading his legs as much as he can, thighs burning. “God, _thank_ you.” 

“Jesus, Edward,” Sol murmurs, awed. “You’re such a good boy.” 

_Slowly_ , Sol slides his fingers almost all the way out, then fucks back in hard and fast, setting a punishing pace as Edward gasps and moans. He feels Sol’s hand on the back of one thigh, pushing up, and Edward complies—he moves both legs up, his bent knees near his shoulders. He’s so _open_ like this. _Exposed_. 

“Just _look_ at you, Jesus fuck.” Sol pulls his hand away for a second, and then replaces it, and then—there’s another sound. A _wet_ sound, skin on skin. It takes a second for Edward to register that Sol’s touching himself, using Edward’s wetness as lube. Edward _groans_. 

“You could take a picture,” Edward says, hardly thinking about his words even as he says them. “You— _fuck_ —you could be filming me right now, and I wouldn’t even know.” 

“You’re so fucking hot, Edward. _Jesus_ , you’d make a pretty porno,” Sol replies, voice growing strained, moaning _loud_. “I’d watch it every _fucking_ day. Proof that you’re _mine,_ that you take me so _well_ , that you moan and beg and come so _pretty_ for me.” 

_“Solomon,_ ” Edward gasps. “ _Harder._ ” 

“Hold on,” Sol replies, breathless, then pulls back altogether, leaving Edward _empty_ and whining. 

“ _Please_ , I’ve been _good_.” 

“You have, baby,” Sol reassures immediately. His rough hands, both _wet_ , come to rest on Edward’s knees, gently guiding his legs back down to the bed. “Just hold on a second. I’m going to take care of you.” 

Edward waits patiently—he has no other option, really. 

Then he hears Sol messing with something, a crinkly noise, and he catches up to what’s going on. 

“Gonna fuck me?” Edward asks, breathless, squeezing his legs together for what little friction he can get. His thighs are _slick_. His arms are beginning to _ache_. He feels amazing.

“You’ve got the loveliest cunt in the damn world, of _course_ I’m going to fuck you.” 

Edward flushes, pleased. 

“Spread your legs again for me, yeah?” Sol asks, and Edward does immediately. “There’s a good boy.” 

Again, the mattress shifts, Sol moving closer, his hands on Edward’s legs, guiding them to wrap around Sol’s hips, impatiently pulling him closer. Then Sol moves one hand, and—he presses the head of his thick cock to Edward’s pussy, just _rubbing_ for a moment. He’s _hot_ , even through the condom, easily sliding up and down because Edward’s so _fucking_ wet, and Edward cants his hips up, ready to _beg_ for it. 

But he doesn’t have to this time. 

Sol guides his cock inside and Edward takes it _easily_ , head falling back and bumping the headboard as he moans for it, relishing the stretch as he’s filled so perfectly. Sol _groans_ as he sinks inside, holding Edward by the hips now, fingers digging into his skin. 

“How are you so _tight?_ ” Sol snaps his hips and then he’s fully _in_ , and Edward is _trembling_. “Been saving yourself for me? For marriage, maybe? Sweet cunt like this, you’ll make a _good_ husband.” 

Edward _moans_ , and Sol starts moving, and Edward’s too caught up in it, Sol’s cock fucking him _deep_ —it takes a second for Sol’s words to register. But yes, _yes_ , Edward _would_ have saved himself if he’d known he’d have Sol someday. All the other men—none of them compare, none of them come _close_. Edward hardly even remembers their hands, their mouths, their cocks; Sol’s body may as well be the only one Edward’s ever known. 

Edward would marry Sol. _God_ , he feels out of his mind even thinking it, but Sol said it _first_. Edward can picture them like this on their wedding night—Sol’s thick cock inside him, making him moan and ache and _gush_. He can picture the both of them in stupidly expensive suits, kissing too long in front of all their friends, sneaking off to the bathroom in the middle of their own reception so Edward can drop to his knees on tile floor— 

Edward _shouts_ as he comes, wrists tugging at the handcuffs, legs locked around Sol’s hips and keeping him close, all thoughts slipping from his mind—nothing left but sweet fucking _bliss_. 

“Good boy,” Sol is saying, voice low and sweet, when Edward can hear past the rushing in his ears again. “So, so _good_ , Edward.” 

Edward makes a soft noise, shifting. He can _feel_ Sol’s eyes on him and wonders where he’s looking—at Edward’s cuffed wrists, maybe. Or the love bites on his chest. Or maybe he’s staring at Edward’s wet, swollen pussy, stretched around Sol’s big cock. Edward _squirms_ , moaning softly. 

“Keep going,” Edward breathes out. “Come inside me.” 

Without another word, Sol complies, grunting as he fucks Edward _hard_. The slick noise of it is so _loud_ , making Edward flush as he lays there, wet and open, just _taking it_. He’d stay here forever, if Sol wanted—naked and _wet_ , chained to the bed, his body on offer for anything Sol wants. Sol could fuck his mouth, could come all over his face, or he could— _god_ , he could do anything. He could stuff toys in Edward’s pussy, see how much he could take at once. He could put that thick cock of his up Edward’s ass. 

“Rub my clit,” Edward demands suddenly, gasping for air. “Please, please, I’m so close.” 

And Sol _does_ , his rough fingers pressing _hard_ against Edward’s clit as he thrusts inside him, and it’s only seconds before Edward comes again—silently this time, mouth open wide as he breathes in sharply. 

“ _Edward_ ,” Sol moans, still fucking him _hard_ , and it’s just a few more seconds before he _moans_ , hot come filling up the condom, cock buried so _deep_ inside Edward. _Oh_ , Edward’s insides will _ache_ later, but all he feels right now is pleasure. 

Carefully, Sol pulls out, breathing hard as he does. Edward feels Sol’s hand on his wrists, caressing the indents in his skin that the handcuffs have left behind while Edward tugged at them. 

“You want free?” Sol asks softly. “Or you want more?” 

“Both,” Edward answers breathlessly. 

“Oh?” Sol sounds like he’s grinning, and Edward can picture it—filthy and smug—and then Sol’s hands pull away and Edward hears him fumbling around on the bedside table, presumably for the keys to the cuffs. “What do you want now, baby? Need your hands for something?”

Edward blushes under the blindfold. “I want to sit on your face.” 

“ _Jesus_ , you’re hot.” Sol seems to move faster now, quickly unlocking the cuffs and gently easing Edward’s arms down—Edward makes a soft noise of discomfort as he moves his stiff arms. Edward hears Sol toss the cuffs into the sheets, and then his lover’s big hands are rubbing gently at Edward’s wrists. “Feel okay?” 

Edward flexes his wrists—they’re sore, but in the good way, and the stiffness is fading fast. As he nods, he wonders if his wrists are bruised. 

“Blindfold on or off?” Sol asks, reaching up to caress Edward’s face with one hand, the tip of his thumb slipping under the silky edge. “You look beautiful like this, Ned, but I do miss your pretty eyes.” 

Edward bites his lip, smiling softly. “Off.” 

Sol reaches around Edward’s head, carefully untying the knot, then letting the blindfold fall into Edward’s lap. As Edward blinks in the dim light of the bedroom, Sol strokes his hair, waiting for him to adjust. It’s gotten dark out while Edward’s been blindfolded—he didn’t realize it had been long enough for the sun to go down, for the room to fill with shadows, only partially lit by the fluorescent lighting filtering in from the hallway outside Sol’s open door. 

Edward’s eyes land on Sol. God, he _never_ gets tired of looking at Sol. He could stare at him, at his messy hair and dark eyes and pink lips, for the rest of his fucking life. He would never get bored. 

God. _God_. Edward’s so in love with him. 

For a second, Edward thinks he might actually be able to bring himself to say it, heart _racing_ in his chest as they hold eye contact for a long, charged moment—but then Sol leans in and kisses Edward softly, and thoughts of love declarations temporarily flee Edward’s mind as he kisses back. Edward cups Sol’s face and _kisses_ him, soft lips and teasing tongue, and he can _feel_ Sol smiling into it, which makes Edward smile, and then they both draw back. 

“I…,” Edward starts, then trails off, breaking eye contact, eyes darting down to Sol’s lips. “I really want to smother you with my cunt.” 

Sol _grins_ and springs into action, laying down on the bed with his head on the pillow, then gestures to his face. “Come sit then, baby.” 

Edward’s never been very confident in his body. He’s always had his insecurities, and it used to be a _lot_ of effort to not bring those into bed with him, to not get trapped in his head during sex, wondering if he looked alright and was doing the right thing and if his partner was into it. But with Sol’s hungry eyes on him, Edward feels _good_. Edward feels _sexy_. 

He moves easily, one knee on either side of Sol’s head, hands braced on the top of the headboard. He looks down at Sol, their eyes meeting, and Sol is still grinning. Edward smiles back. 

“Ready for it?” Edward asks softly. 

“ _Always_ ,” Sol replies, and then he wraps his hands around the back of Edward’s thighs and pulls him closer. Edward’s grip tightens on the headboard as he grinds down against Sol’s hot mouth, and Sol licks him eagerly. _Fuck_ , there’s nothing better than Sol’s soft lips and tongue on his sensitive, _sore_ , well-fucked cunt. 

Edward rolls his hips, moaning low in his throat. _This_ is fucking luxury. Forget the idea of Sol keeping Edward cuffed to the bed—Edward decides now that he’d rather keep Sol here instead. He’d like to have this mouth at his disposal whenever he fucking wants, and if he gets bored of it, he can sit on Sol’s cock instead, and that ought to keep him entertained a while. 

_Fuck_ , but Sol is truly meant for this. His mouth is _perfect_ , licking Edward all sloppy and wet, then sucking on Edward’s clit _hard_ , drawing him close to the edge so _fast_. Sol digs his fingers into the soft skin of Edward’s thighs, keeping him close, as Edward shifts, rocking down, grinding against Sol’s face. He looks down, watching Sol—his face is _flushed_ and his eyes are shut, brows furrowed in concentration, working so hard to please Edward. 

“I love your _mouth_ ,” Edward says between moans, and Sol’s eyes open, meeting Edward’s instantly. Busy as his mouth is, Sol doesn’t reply, but he makes a pleased noise, muffled against Edward’s pussy. 

_I love you_ , Edward wants to say. _Oh_ , how he wants to say it. But he bites his lip, keeping the words trapped inside, letting them spiral in his head instead of spilling out of his mouth. _I love to be here, in your bed with you, and I never want to go. I want to move in here, I want to marry you, I want to keep you in this bed with me until we die, I want to come on your beautiful face every fucking day_ —

Edward’s orgasm takes him by surprise, fingernails digging into the wooden headboard as his hips stutter against Sol’s face, grinding down _hard_ as he comes, making a wet mess of Sol’s face, enough to drip down his chin and his neck. 

“ _Fuck_.” Edward shifts back, and just—sits on Sol’s chest as he remembers how to breathe again. Sol’s hands pet his thighs, which Edward realizes are shaking a little. 

“God, Edward,” Sol says, voice low. “That was fucking hot.” 

Edward chuckles breathlessly, opening his eyes to look down at Sol once more—Sol is looking up at him, something almost reverent in his face as he smiles. 

With a groan, Edward moves off of Sol, collapsing on the bed next to him, and Sol huffs in amusement. Sol wipes his face and neck with the corner of the sheet, then promptly drapes himself over Edward, his pleasant weight pinning Edward to the bed, and Edward doesn’t mind it one bit. Absently, he strokes Sol’s hair, still gathering his breath and his thoughts. 

“You… that was…” 

Sol pats Edward’s chest patronizingly. “Don’t strain yourself, Ned, I think I fucked your brains out.” 

Edward snorts. He tries to think of something clever to say. 

“Shut up,” he mumbles, and Sol laughs softly. 

“You’ve been a good boy today,” Sol murmurs, pressing a sweet kiss to one of the marks on Edward’s chest—now that Edward isn’t blindfolded and is paying attention, he sees just how _many_ marks there are, and it almost makes him dizzy. He’s going to bruise so _nicely_. 

Edward nuzzles against Sol’s head on his shoulder, burying his face in his hair. “I’m only good because you’re so good to me.” 

“I’ve got to give you everything you deserve, don’t I?” Sol muses, peppering Edward’s chest with soft kisses. “How else will I keep you?” 

Edward doesn’t quite know how to respond to that. 

He wants to be kept. He wants, very badly, to be kept. 

“Let me spoon you,” Edward says softly. 

“Truly the perfect boyfriend,” Sol murmurs in quiet delight, turning onto his side, and Edward follows, holding Sol’s warm, strong body close. They’re both still hot, sweaty, covered in come—but Edward has no complaints. It’s so _comfortable_ like this. 

It’s dark in here, the sun well and truly set. Edward kisses the freckle between Sol’s shoulder blades—he knows exactly where it is, though it’s too dark to see it right now—and he closes his eyes. 

He thinks back to what Jopson said earlier, about it being easier to say things in the dark. He thinks about the blindfold, the handcuffs, the trust he lays in Sol’s hands. 

He thinks about Sol’s heart, beating steadily under Edward’s hand. 

Edward’s own heart is racing. 

“Tell me you’re not asleep yet,” Edward whispers. 

“Are you alright?” Sol asks softly, squeezing Edward’s hand on his chest. “I can feel your heart racing.” 

Edward swallows thickly. 

“I love you,” Edward says in a voice that shakes. “I’m sorry it took so long for me to say it, but I—I love you.” 

Sol immediately turns in Edward’s arms, and though his face is in shadow, Edward can see enough to know he’s _smiling_. 

“I love you too,” Sol replies, cupping Edward’s face and leaning in to kiss him softly, a tender touch of lips that Edward presses into, a shaky breath exhaled against Sol’s mouth. 

When they part, Sol sighs softly. “Wish it wasn’t so dark in here. I want to see your face.” 

Edward ducks his head, blushing a little. Smiling. His heart is still _racing_ , but the anxiety is gone. Sol _loves_ him. Of _course_ he does. Edward never should have doubted it. 

“I didn’t know if you meant it, the first time,” Edward admits quietly, pressing his hand to Sol’s chest again, feeling the way his heart beats fast too. “I thought—I worried it was just… a sex thing.” 

“ _Edward_.” 

“I _know_ ,” Edward laughs, suddenly feeling so much _lighter_. “It should have been obvious.” 

“I think I’ve made it _very_ obvious,” Sol teases, kissing the tip of Edward’s nose. “So have you, though.” 

“I have?” 

“The way you look at me,” Sol says simply. 

“I love you,” Edward says again, unable to stop the grin spreading across his face.

There’s a matching grin in Sol’s voice as he replies, “I love you too, you sap.” 

“Turn back around so I can spoon you again.” 

Sol laughs, a bright, loud, happy sound. “Yeah, yeah, I’ll give you access to my ass again.” 

Edward laughs too, and when he spoons up behind Sol once more, he _does_ squeeze Sol’s ass before wrapping his arm around Sol’s chest, holding him close. He squeezes tight for a long moment, grateful to have his lover in his arms. 

There’s a part of Edward tempted to say, _Hey, since we’re in love now, can I move in and stay here forever?_ But he doesn’t, though. He’s not going to rush this. They’re doing things _right_ this time. He stays here often enough anyway; he’ll start by taking over a drawer in Sol’s disorganized dresser. And maybe he’ll bring a couple shirts to hang up, and a pair of his nice shoes, for when he has meetings. 

Instead of asking Sol for a key, he says, “Hey, I talked to Jopson earlier.” 

“And?” Sol prompts, sounding bored. 

“You were right about him and Crozier,” Edward replies. “Not only are they fucking, but I think they’re actually _dating_.” 

Sol’s answering laugh is _beautiful_. 

**Author's Note:**

> i sure can't seem to stop working on this series, huh!! can you tell it's my spring break and i'm spending all my free time on fic instead of my thesis? 
> 
> i've got TWO more wips for this series rn (one of which is for a much more spicy bingo square) and i'm sure many more to come. as always, please let me know if you liked it!
> 
> and find me on twitter @blazeofglry!


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